


Anduin Gets a Nap

by Sunshine_and_Seashells



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, and together we can make sure he gets a break, everyone loves Anduin Wrynn, hes just a paladin standing in front of his king wanting to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_and_Seashells/pseuds/Sunshine_and_Seashells
Summary: Anduin just isn't himself when he's tired. A certain redeemer notices and tried to help as best he can.(Just a little bit of fluff because I like seeing Anduin happy.)
Relationships: Arator the Redeemer/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	Anduin Gets a Nap

**Author's Note:**

> I ship Anduin x Nap  
> but not really though  
> Really I ship Anduin x Arator  
> but first and foremost I ship Anduin x Happiness  
> And so does Arator  
> So this story is for Arator  
> who just wanted to help  
> Enjoy

The dreaded day was finally here.

Despite his efforts and best excuses, Arator found himself in the uncomfortable situation of having to visit the King.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with visiting him, and by all accounts Anduin had grown into a truly kind and caring King. The problem was with Arator. He was not good at it; the whole _song and dance_ that was expected when one was before a King, or really anyone in a position of authority.

He forgot titles and formalities, his bow was abysmal, he always somehow ended up with his foot directly in his mouth, and even in spite of the humans being more accepting of half-elves, it was still considered bad fortune to bring one around. Of course it didn’t help that, when people looked at an elf, they expected a certain level of decorum. Elves were, by nature, a long-lived and wise race. Two key ingredients he was sadly lacking.

Arator could not directly say it, but he blamed his mother for all of it. She, too, has a special way about her that just pissed off royalty, but at least he never threw a head at anyone.

It wasn’t supposed to have been a problem. The meeting, on his father’s assistance, had been made weeks ago. Arator would have been fine so long as Turalyon was there with him; thus allowing his son to be quiet, nod, and perform terrible bows at the appropriate times. _That he could do_.

Instead, Arator had been unceremoniously abandoned at the keep. Turalyon had apologies, oh so many of them, and the hint of a grin on his face as he left his son to face the wolves alone. The elder paladin had insisted that Arator go in and meet the King without him. It was, after all, not good practice to keep a King waiting.

On his way down the long hall, the King's guest before him was heading out. They did not look happy and were walking much faster than Arator towards the exit. Clearly they were not in the mood to stay longer. When they passed, Arator heard the Lord or Duke or _whatever_ he was mutter about the King having a short fuse today. Muttered in passing as though in _warning_.

Arator could feel the grip of death surrounding him. Maybe they should just reschedule. If King Wrynn was already in a bad mood, then one meeting with Arator might end up with the entire Windrunner lineage shamed for the rest of human history.

Oh wait, _that had already happened_. So, it was only Arator’s reputation on the line. Goody.

When he finally approached the floor, he still had no idea what he was doing. The Sargeant at Arms was there, watching the half-elf expectedly. They made eye contact, one waiting for the other while the other…unsure what the first was waiting for. It took an embarrassingly long moment for Arator to remember, oh yes the introduction, and before he could give his name an equally as flustered blush appeared upon his cheeks.

“Oh…uhm…Arator. The Redeemer.” It was always a safer bet to stick with his title over familial name. Redeemers were given ‘ _get out of jail free_ ’ cards. Windrunners were **not**.

The Sargent at Arms shouted out the introduction with a booming voice that made Arator’s name and title sound twice as pompous as it should have. Had that _really_ been necessary? Though Arator suspected most nobles liked how pompous their titles sounded when shouted for the King.

Arator moved towards the throne, trying not to smile as he imagined how pretentious his _parents_ would have sounded when being introduced.

 _‘The Lady Alleria Windrunner and her husband, High Exarch Turalyon Windrunner’_ **Ha**.

The smirk hadn’t gone away by the time he was before the throne, but it did quickly vanish when he came face to face with the Kings demeanor.

Anduin was somewhat leaning to the side, his elbow resting on the arm of his throne while his hand was raised and massaging his temple. Arator could not make his face, but the posture itself seemed very un- _Kingly_. Not that he minded, but it did seem as though they were in the same boat about this meeting.

Silence permeated the room. The Sargent at Arms had no more screaming to do, and the guards might as well have been mannequins. Arator was trying to remember if it was proper etiquette for him to speak to the King first or-

It was Anduin, _bless him_ , that broke the silence. He let his temple go and straightened a bit on his throne. Arator, without meaning to, mimicked the gesture and stood as tall as he could.

The King’s eyes looked at the empty space beside the paladin before asking the most obvious question, “Where is the High Exarch? Wasn’t this meeting his idea?”

Oh, there _was_ a snap to his voice. Small, a little agitated, but Arator felt as though it was not directed at him or even Turalyon. No, it seemed Arator wasn’t the only one who had not been looking forward to this meeting. He knew his own reasons why so was more curious as to what exactly had gotten under Anduins skin.

“My apologies, your Highness.” Wait, no, Highness wasn’t the proper title was it? _WAS IT_? “Your majesty! My apologies, your _majesty_.” He could almost hear the scowl coming off Anduins face, who now resumed rubbing at his forehead. Oh no. This was bad. How many strikes was that?

“My father had something come up. He sends his regards and apologies for his absence but it…it could not be helped.”

King Wrynn had no comments on the apology, instead asking “Do _you_ at least know what it was he wished for us to talk about today?”

He did not. No clue in fact. All her knew was the last couple of weeks his father had been going on and on about the two meeting without once saying why. Which is **OF COURSE** why he had gone missing at a time like this.

Arator lowered his head, not happy in the least for having to be the one to deliver the news, “I do not, Your Majesty, I’m sor-“

“Please…stop. Not today.” Anduin started, hand now resting upon his eyes and rubbing. He just needed a _moment_ …one second he didn’t have to be king. To let him get his thoughts together and just breathe.

Arator was immediately quiet. Left to wonder _What was that supposed to mean?_ while unsure what he had said, or done, to-

 _Thanks, dad. I’m keeping the Windrunner line proud by pissing off royalty wherever I go_.

Anduin was quick to realize, and to notice, how his words had sounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…today…you see I didn’t…”

Now it was Anduin’s turn to now know what to say. Being a convincing and collected monarch was becoming more and more difficult. How to explain that he was done? That he simply lacked the energy to care enough about being a King, being proper, the pleasantries, the sadness, the heartache that all came from his crown? Not because he no longer cared, or wanted to abandon the role, he just…he no longer had the _energy_. _Not today_. Anduin was determined that he could help and protect his people, but not if he was exhausted.

He wanted to be a King, to take a deep breath and ignore his own needs for the needs of his people. He was about to, his chest taking in air before he stopped and became distracted by Arator. It was the paladin's eyes. Arator was not blinking, he hardly looked to be breathing, but he was not upset. Instead he was focused on Anduin and every half-excuse coming from him. His eyes, radiant and golden, were so intense that Anduin could feel that any lie, any false face used upon this paladin, would be seen right through. Arator even seemed to be waiting for it, ready to pounce upon whatever the problem might be.

There was no use lying to him. No use pretending he was fine…there also seemed to be no problem in letting it out because…Oh because this was what _Redeemers_ thrived upon, wasn’t it? Souls and peoples in need of _saving_?

“…I kept asking…” Anduin paused. Was he going to say it? Could he admit what he had been wanting all along? Yes. “…for the day off. Just…no meetings. No talk of war and fighting. Maybe they could just…turn around for a minute, let me escape for just a day…” He trailed off, quickly getting lost in the forests of Pandaria that existed in his memories. How nice it had been to run and explore. To _escape_. Sometimes it was difficult to remember how easy that had been. He had taken it for granted.

Anduin did not forget for long where he was, nor that when he moved the pain would return. But before him was Arator, his eyes still seeking for a way to help.

“…I know I shouldn’t…none of this ends just because I need a break. Truthfully, I would likely waste the day by sleeping but…can’t I have that? Just a day?”

The paladin chuckled, “No, that doesn’t sound like too much to ask.” But how to get it for him? He was the King. People would be looking for him.

Anduin had already accepted his fate. Day after day, he had tried. This wasn’t his first request for even a fraction of a reprieve, and he knew it was to be denied.

“If you will help me, though, I would ask you to call me Anduin.” One less person reminding him of the weight on his shoulders it…it might be nice. Today, it might be what he needed. Not as nice as a nap, but _nice enough_.

“Okay, Anduin.” It was most likely the lack of sleep, but he found himself enjoying how the half-elf said that. Elves always spoke as though they were spinning silk. So grand and graceful. Arator did not appear to be an exception to that fact. “Maybe I can help you in other ways, too.”

The Kings eyes grew a little. He definitely did not mean that the way Anduin heard it, so that one was _completely_ the exhaustions fault.

“Everyone needs a chance to relax. So you should go take your nap.”

It was a tantalizing idea, and Anduin could practically hear his bed calling to him.

_Anduin…Anduin…it’s me…your 400 thread count sheets. Kiss me, Anduin. Embrace me._

Oh, so tempting. “But they’ll come looking for me.” And they would. The _warmongers_ would never let him sleep.

“They won’t find you. I won’t let them.” Arator declared, his back straightening as though taking a vow.

Anduin was curious. “How? The first place they’ll look is my room.”

“I’ll stand guard. Anywho try to get past will be turned away. The stubborn ones…” **cough** _Genn and Tyrande_ **cough** , “Will be sent on a goose-chase.”

He sat up in his throne, thinking over the proposition. In theory it could work…there was only one problem he suspected the paladin, son of Turalyon, would have.

“You would **lie** for me?”

“…I would.”

“Are redeemers even _allowed_ to lie?”

Arator grinned, and while Anduin found the sudden confidence charming he was also a little unnerved that apparently Sylvanas’ smirk was genetic. “We can lie when it’s for the greater good.”

And so, apparently, was her _snark_. “Are you saying my nap time is for the greater good?” Anduin was expecting something clever. Anticipating it. A quip on par with Sylvanas Windrunner or even Wrathion. The last thing he was expecting was the abrupt honesty and seriousness.

“Your _health_ is of the utmost importance, Anduin.”

Anduin was stunned a moment before blurting, “Oh…because I’m King?” That made sense. Yes, the _golden paladin_ would of course put his Kings wellbeing before any virtues or vow-

“No. Because you are kind.”

Anduin didn’t know what to do with that. Again Arator showed unwavering honesty and reiterated what he meant.

“You are kind, and caring…and there are so few people like you left in this world. There needs to be more, not less.”

That was…it was…

Anduin had, for so long, put the burdens of others above his own that he had forgotten what it felt like to be cared for. To have someone so willing to care about him first and foremost…

Could he…could he really have a nap? Just until he felt better?

“Okay.” As one body, both paladin and priest relaxed. A deal had been struck and the King would get a nap. Arator was awfully pleased with himself, but how to keep his promise?

Anduin stood, his body slow to follow through on such simple actions. He had been sitting for so long that, to move now, reminded his bones that they couldn’t just lock up simply because he was still. Aches and pains spread like wildfire through his body and he gasped.

Without asking or prompt from the King, Arator was by his side. One arm under the Kings in an attempt to brace him.

The guards surrounding the throne, those forgotten decorations, moved towards the half-elf. Anduin caught them in the act and waved them away.

“Secure the entrance. No more meetings today. If anyone asks, I’m uh…I’m sick. Yes. Sick.”

Without much more needed, they were all dismissed to guard the corridors.

Anduin leaned into the paladin and whispered “You said lying is allowed ‘ _for the greater good_ ’, right?” as a grin appeared on both of their faces.

Arator opened the bedroom doors and Anduin found his stride now that a nap was within sight. His first goal, to get to his bed, was easily achieved. He sat on the edge and began to remove his outer clothing. Once again, as though he had trained for this, Arator was by his side helping him. First the heavy coat, then his boots. An article of clothing Anduin was eternally grateful for not having to remove in this state. With but one paladin to judge him, he decided to fall back into the bed, apparently to the delight of one half-elf who chuckled. His entire body was aching, and the sooner he could relax the quicker that would go away.

“Shall I…leave now?” Arator asked, seeing as the King was laying down and ready for a little ‘me’ time.

Anduin shook his head, “Not just yet. There’s a few things we need to discuss first.” He patted the bed beside himself, encouraging the paladin to sit there. It would be an awkward discussion with those golden eyes just staring down at him from above.

“First, if there is an emergency…You have to wake me.” He received a nod from Arator, acknowledging he would. Sleep began to weigh down his eyelids, so Anduin closed them and got to relaxing.

“Second, don’t let me sleep longer than two hours. I also need to know...If something _does_ come up that needs to be addressed, would you be willing to take care of it for me?”

For a moment, Anduin opened one eye to check the sincerity of the paladin. After all, he already knew he was capable of _lying_. Instead what the King found was a look of equal parts shock and honor.

“You would trust me with that?” It was an honest question, and one Anduin was glad the paladin had asked. It spoke to his humility and intelligence to recognize that the task he was given normally would not be entrusted to a stranger.

“I trust _Turalyon_ , and he trusts you. That and I can tell you two are cut from the same cloth. So yes, I will trust you to take care of this for me. For two hours.” He closed his eyes again, feeling confident that the paladin would see this task through. “If the Kingdom goes to ruins in that time, I’ll have you drawn and quartered.” And will never _trust_ again.

“You wouldn’t.” Arator chuckled at the thought. Such an act was beneath his King. Had he thought Anduin capable of such cruelty, he wouldn’t have served him with such faith.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” A smirk found it’s way to Anduin’s face. The bed was suddenly feeling like a cloud. His body no longer ached, and his thoughts began to drift.

“And last…” Sleep was creeping in on his consciousness. He could feel it pulling him in, promising that all things had been accounted for, except he knew there was something else. His grip upon the thought was tenuous, and the more he tried to recall it the quicker it floated away.

“Yes, Anduin?”

The King smiled. There it was, again. Something in the way the paladin said his name. It was tenderly reverent, with a loving warmth. Anduin imagined it might have been how his mother would have said his name, had it not been for...

“...I forgot. But I…I like the way you say my name and I just realized why.”

“…And why is that?” His voice sounded further away, just above a whisper now. Sleep would soon claim him, but he was happy about it.

“Most say it...‘An-du-in’…but you go…’Ahn-dew-in’…" He chuckled, "...makes me sound…like an elf…”

“…Do you want me to stop?”

“Please, don’t.” No he liked it. It sounded beautiful. Anduin wondered where he had picked up the habit but was soon too far asleep to ask.

At his bedside, All Arator could do was smile, “Okay, Anduin.”

He liked saying his name, too, and would try to make a habit of it. After all, it had put such a smile on his face. Soon a peace fell over the two and Arator realized his King had fallen asleep. He was afraid to move, and risk the eased pressure on the bed might wake him…so he waited a few, and let his King sleep. That was until he realized he had been staring at the mans peaceful visage. It was _definitely_ time to leave; before he was caught. This was his King, he had served him faithfully and well, and now Anduin was getting what he needed. Arator slowly stood, and equally as mouselike headed for the bedroom doors. No risk was taken to prevent from disturbing Anduins slumber.

Great care was also taken when closing the doors behind himself. Satisfied that his work was complete, Arator felt he was prepared to _manage_ the menial tasks of the Kingdom for an hour or two.

He had, however, been caught making his exit.

“Who are you?” The voice smooth demanded. Arator turned quickly, a little sheepish that he had been seen.

Who indeed, to be coming from the King’s bedroom as quiet as a mouse. The one curious to find out was familiar. His red eyes would be disconcerting if Arator did not recognize him as Wrathion. And even with recognizing him, he was still uncomfortable in the dragons presence.

Arator was still as he mulled over the question under the assumption that Wrathion was interested in knowing his relationship to the King, not his _name_. The honest answer was complex simply because this was his first time having even met Anduin.

“I’m no one.”

Wrathion was stunned, having sensed not a drip of sarcasm, nor dishonesty in those three simple words and yet they were said in such a way he was unnerved. They sounded just like something he would say. Smooth as silk, but _frighteningly_ cryptic. _No one_? **NO ONE**? _You just came out of Anduin's bedroom_!

He reminded himself to calm down. There was no reason to get upset. _Yet_.

“Funny,” _hardly_ “but you didn’t answer my question.”

Arator went to move away from the bedroom door. If they were going to have a conversation, it was best to not have it right here when he had just gotten the King to sleep. The action was interpreted by Wrathion as an attempt to escape, so he cut the paladins' path off.

“My name is Wrathion. Now it’s _your_ turn.” Perhaps no one had taught the poor paladin manners. Wrathion motioned him on, trying to encourage the name out of him. The name of this stranger who, for some reason, was sneaking from the King's bedroom while the King was nowhere in sight.

“I know who you are,” Arator responded. A familiar agitation began to build beneath his skin. The good ol’ Windrunner wrath. _Oh Light please give me the patience needed_.

“Wonderful for you, but it would seem I am at a disadvantage because I still have no idea who you are.”

He really wasn’t going to drop this and they were still before the doors, so Arator sighed and finally relented to his questions.

“My name is Arator Windrunner, I am acting as…” Oh Light help him what would be the title? “the Kings Hand?” He said it with such uncertainty that it was no shock Wrathion was instantly suspicious of the response given to him. Though it was not the lie that upset him so much as the name given.

“Arator…Windrunner?” Windrunner as in _Sylvanas Windrunner_? As in this boy, who had just been inside of Anduin Wrynn's bedroom alone, and was now preventing Wrathion from getting inside, was related to the Windrunner that had tried to murder Anduin?

Wrathion was done playing with his food. He barely even waited for the paladin to nod that yes, he was indeed a Windrunner, before trying to move past him. It was Arators turn to keep the other from passing now.

“What are you doing? No one is to disturb the King yet.” Arator stated. Wrathion did not constitute an emergency, which means he was squarely on the list of things Arator should handle instead. He softened his voice, trying to get the point across, “He’s trying to sleep.”

The interference was just the cherry on top of Wrathion's day. He was now certain that this half-elf had done something wrong. Did he think him stupid? That it was just a coincidence that a _Windrunner_ was here, with all of the guards missing, and now he was preventing people from seeing Anduin because, apparently in the middle of the day, he was asleep??

Wrathion had two options: first, he could use every drop of willpower to not push past the elf and eventually argue him down, or second he could just push past him.

Most days he would have calmed himself and enjoyed talking above such a nuisance, but today…no game was fun to him when Anduin might be in danger. What was happening to him on the other side of that door? If he had been poisoned or was hurt, then time spent arguing was time wasted. It wasn’t difficult to push the elf to the side. They might have been similar in stature but only one of them was a dragon. The push was enough to force the elf against the wall, and Wrathion went to the door. His hand went for the handle but before he could grasp it, the elf had pulled a short sword and placed the point on the handle instead.

“I said no.”

The next time Wrathion looked at the half-elf, he bared his fangs at him and growled. The rumble in his throat was deeper than humanly possible and threatening. It almost made Arator retreat. Had a promise not been made to his King, he would have. Instead, he prepared to push forward, and it seemed a scuffle might break about between the two men who were unknowingly warring for the same reason.

Before it could progress, the doors to the bedroom flung open and there stood an agitated Anduin Wrynn.

“Not even five minutes! Is that really all I can get?”

The two men warring were both stunned into silence. Wrathion because…well, apparently the treacherous acting elf had been telling the truth and Arator because, despite his promise and well intentions, he hadn’t even achieved a fraction of his goal.

“I’m so sorry your Majes-“ Arator started, putting his sword up and about to drop to a knee. Drawn and quartering the paladin would have been a relief at this point.

“Arator, what did I say? Please, just call me Anduin.”

“Y-yes, Anduin.” This time saying his name caused the paladin an immeasurable amount of apprehension. Not because he had, once again, forced the King to correct him but because of the look Wrathion gave him. A look that, very clearly, was aghast.

 _Apparently, Mr. I-am-no-one was on a first name basis with the High King_.

“And you,” It was now Wrathions turn to be on the receiving end of a tired King’s scorn. If he finished this now, he could return to his well-deserved rest. “I don’t want to hear anything from you unless Azeroth is in danger...Is it?”

“N-no, but must the world be in danger for me to visit a frie-“ He was cut off.

“Then you can come back in two hours.” Anduin said, about to recede back into his bedroom. He paused, grabbed Arator by the arm, and pulled him into the room with him. “Arator, help me get back to sleep.” The paladin opened his mouth, face warm and needing to protest just how indecent such a proposal could be, but not a word could get out before he was returned to the King's chambers by royal decree. 

And then the door was shut without allowing Wrathion anymore quips. He was left alone on the other side, shocked about this treatment but also very curious about when Anduin had learned how to _shut him up_.

He would have to find out. In two hours.


End file.
